Depth Perception
by FrumiousBandersnatch10
Summary: Beca always struggled academically, and her dad never listened. The Bellas help on both fronts. Bellas-bonding, pre-Bechloe. One-shot. Rating for Beca's language.


Depth Perception

Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Perfect/Pitch Perfect 2.

 _-Shakespeare-_

"Several of Shakespeare's plays were political. _Julius Caesar_ was actually a warning to Queen Elizabeth," her father explained as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Any idea why?"

Beca looked blankly at her father. "She was a chick and he was a dude?"

The man across from her sighed. "No, Bec. Didn't you do the reading? The answer was right there."

She didn't respond, cringing a little. There it was. The look of disappointment, the one that said he wondered how he could teach literature and create a child who disdained reading.

"Come on Bec, you can't just assume I will give you the answer if you don't do the work."

"I read it, I just don't get it. God, I barely understand English. How am I supposed to get this stuff? It's not English, it's Old Crazy English or something!" Her shoulders slumped. "I don't want you to give me the answers, I just want some help understanding it." If she didn't have to pass the next test to pass her class, she never would have come to him for help.

"Read it again. Pay better attention this time. You can't just be lazy about this, Beca, not if you want to actually get something out of college." His words were kind as far as chastisements go. Still, they struck a chord.

She was not lazy. She wasn't. She hated when he told her to stop being lazy.

"Okay. I'll read it again." And again, and again, and again, but nothing would change. Beca gathered her books, shoving them into her backpack.

The door opened. Nathaniel and Henry David walked in, both in a heated discussion. "Nonfiction is bedder," Henry David, the younger of her half-brothers, stated firmly. "You can learn more."

Nathaniel shook his head. "Better, not bedder. Enunciate. And history is written by the winners, so those works will always be colored by someone else's perception." Nathaniel, only eleven, had already skipped two years in school. "Fiction is expected to be off, so it is allowed to use metaphors and allegories and—hello."

The brothers looked at her as Beca grabbed her book, ready to leave. The last thing she needed was to be judged by eleven and five year olds. She hadn't even known Henry David existed until a few months ago, and only met them both the month before. Beca hadn't figured out what sort of accelerated program they found for a five-year-old boy, but she pitied the kid.

"Hey," she responded stiffly, sliding the book in her bag, but not fast enough.

"Shakespeare?" Nathaniel asked. "Which play? Or are you reading his poetry?"

" _Julius Caesar_ ," she responded, pulling the straps over her shoulders.

"Very political play," Nathaniel said, nodding. "It was a warning to Queen Elizabeth because she hadn't chosen an heir—someone to take over after she died," he said, answering Henry David's questioning look. "The second half focused on the chaos that comes when there is no clear line of succession. It's all very fascinating."

"Don't give away too much, Nathaniel," their father interrupted. "Beca hasn't read it yet. Let her figure all that out for herself."

And her self-esteem just dropped again. Beca Mitchell, age nineteen, officially knew less about literature than either younger brother.

"Yeah, I have to go. Reading and all that, plus I have rehearsals." She smiled a little. Time with her Bellas would pull her back up. So what if she didn't actually have rehearsals tonight? It was a good reason to leave.

Her father frowned. "Schoolwork first, Bec. Your little glee club is all well and good, but you can't forget that you are a student first."

"Sure, Dad."

"I mean it, Beca," he called after her as she ducked out of the house. She picked up the pace, choking back tears of shame. She needed to get away, needed to go home. She needed the Bellas.

 _-Sisters-_

By the time she made it back to the Bella House, she was panting from the long trek. She walked in, dropped her bag by the door, walked up the stairs, turned left and stopped three doors down.

"Chloe?" She called, knocking on the door.

Shuffling inside before the door opened. Beca's shoulders slumped against her will. Chloe stood, dressed for a date. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, though, Chloe turned around. "Code Blue," she informed Stacie before leaning out of her room and shouting "Code Blue!"

Shouts of "Code Blue! Code Blue!" resounded through the house.

"Stacie, you take Beca. I'll change and send out the alert."

"Gotcha," Stacie replied, coming forward. She grabbed a bag that sat innocently beside her vanity. "Come on, Becs. Let's go to the living room."

"Huh? What?" She asked, confused.

"The living room," she repeated. "We'll wait for everyone there. It shouldn't be long. Chloe made everyone's jobs pretty clear."

"Jobs? Waiting? What exactly _is_ Code Blue?" Beca demanded as Stacie led her downstairs and directed her toward a couch. If she had more energy, she might have pushed the brunette away.

"Come on Becs," Stacie scoffed. "You've gone downhill all semester and you're out of it at practices half the time. Chloe put together Code Blue to help you out."

"Is this supposed to be an intervention?" She demanded, trying to stand only for Stacie to push her back.

"Yeah but no."

"Huh?"

"Yeah but no."

"The hell does that mean?"

"Yeah but no, you know?"

"We're not moving forward with this conversation."

"Why not?"

"Oh my god, Stacie, just stop. I'm confused."

"Me too. I thought it was going fine."

Beca decided not to continue that line of conversation, if only to protect what precious little sanity remained. "What's in the bag?" She asked instead.

Stacie grinned and Beca immediately regretted her inquiry. Her response was disrupted by Lilly, who stalked into the room, dropped half a dozen pillows on the couch and walked back upstairs.

Stacie, meanwhile, opened her bag and dumped out what Beca thought might be all of the nail polish at the local corner store. Accompanying said nail polish, looked like a series of torture devices that Beca had no intention of letting near her nails. Stacie was borderline obsessed with nail care.

"Pizzas are in the oven," Fat Amy said, coming in. "It's not delivery, it's DiGiorno." She collapsed into her favored recliner. "What up, Shawshank?"

"What's Code Blue?" Beca asked.

"Designated Girl Time," Fat Amy answered easily. "Just something we set up to give you a little TLC, Roomie." She shrugged. "You've had a hard time this year. We're just gonna look after you."

"Is it an intervention?"

The Aussie looked up at her. "Yeah but no."

"That's what I said," Stacie huffed.

Lilly appeared again, carrying yet more pillows and several blankets wrapped around her. She said something—or rather, Beca saw her lips move.

"What's that?" Stacie asked.

Lilly sighed. "I want to be mummified when I die."

Silence.

Lilly slipped out of the blankets and piled them onto the couch with the pillows. Then Beca noticed she was wearing her pajamas. Looking over, she saw Fat Amy was likewise dressed for bed.

"Alright Bitches," Cynthia Rose said, coming in the front door, Denise at her heels. "We got a dozen movies. Plenty of white girl flicks, a couple of action movies for me and Beca, and _Magic Mike_ for Stacie." They set the movies by the television. "We're gonna change for Code Blue."

"Me too," Flo said as she walked out, setting her grocery bags by the table.

Stacie leaned over, squealed in delight and pulled out Butter Pecan ice cream.

"Yeah!" Fat Amy cried, pumping her fist in the air. She stood and made for the kitchen.

Chloe ran down the stairs as the others ran up. She tossed a few clothes at Stacie before straddling Beca and tugging at her shirt.

"What the—oh my god! Dude, what are you doing?" She demanded, crossing her arms so Chloe couldn't pull her shirt off. "You have, like, no boundaries!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Relax, Beca, you need to change and I don't trust you not to try and run if we let you leave the room."

"This _is_ an intervention!"

"Yeah but no." Chloe shrugged. Behind her, Stacie threw her hands up.

Chloe wriggled in Beca's lap and leaned back. "Listen. Something is wrong. Like, really wrong. We don't know what is going on, but we're your Sisters. Whatever is bothering you, Becs, we're here to help. And we are going to sit here and eat and do our nails and watch movies until you tell us what is going on."

"We've got the Taco Bell!" Jessica or Ashley cried as they came in, panting. "We didn't know what you would want, Beca, so we just got tons of stuff. We still have time?"

"Pizza's still in the oven," Stacie offered, running loving fingers over the Butter Pecan.

Jessica or Ashley nodded. "We'll get changed and be down. Does Fat Amy need help?"

"I've wrestled a kangaroo into submission before," Fat Amy replied, walking in with plates, bowls, and silverware. "I can handle the dinnerware."

Beca looked around Chloe as Lilly began to toss pillows to Stacie, who set them around her side of the room. Fat Amy was separating the dishes. Cynthia Rose and Denise appeared, Flo right behind them.

"You guys did this for me?" She asked, a strange warmth filling her. She looked up at Chloe, still in her lap, who grinned in reply. Beca, knowing she was well and truly beat, sighed. "Give me my clothes. I'll change in the bathroom.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you are so bashful. You have a great body."

"And how do you know that?" Cynthia Rose asked, amused.

"We sang together in the shower," Chloe answered easily, standing at the same time. This had the unfortunate effect of letting everyone see how red Beca's face was.

Beca mumbled something so incoherent not even Beca knew she said, before shuffling to the closest bathroom.

"She's got some really nice tattoos," Chloe was telling them. "Some of them were in some really surprising places, too."

Ignoring that conversation in favor of pretending to preserve her modesty, Beca changed her clothing in the bathroom before returning. Everyone was already gathered. Amy had gotten the pizza, and the Taco Bell was laid out. There were a few bags of chips, some skittles and twizzlers. Someone had collected a cooler filled with bottled water, soda and beer. A second cooler probably held the ice cream. Everyone was on the floor or the couches, wrapped their blankets and leaning against their pillows. Beca's were left where she sat earlier.

Beca just looked at the gathering for a moment and smiled. Wiping her face clear, she walked back to her seat, everyone quieting as she sat. They had all grabbed what they wanted to eat, Chloe putting two Burrito Supremes on her plate. It looked silly, having Taco Bell on an actual plate. And how did they know about her obsession with Taco Bell anyway? She was always careful to only eat it after midnight, far and away from the Bella House.

Chloe swallowed her bite of pizza. "Okay, Becs, spill. What's going on?"

Beca fiddled with the edge of the plate before she sighed and slid from the couch onto the floor. "Not sure where to start." She rubbed her face.

"Beginning is usually a pretty good place," Fat Amy said.

She briefly considered rambling about meaningless things, but then she looked around at the Bellas. Chloe had cancelled a date. Cynthia Rose had a major test next week and was supposed to be studying. Lilly had a night class that started in ten minutes, but she was in her pajamas and showing no intentions of leaving. Yes, she would tell them. Everything.

 _-Confessions-_

"My dad bailed on us when I was seven," she blurted. Chloe nodded and reached out, taking Beca's hand. "I knew it was coming. Or, I should have. They'd been fighting for a year. About me. I was…not doing well in school. I almost failed Kindergarten because I couldn't spell my name," she admitted. She released Chloe's hand and rubbed her face, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"They let me move on because Dad said he would work with me, get me caught up over the summer. Only it didn't work. He made me write my name over and over but I couldn't get it. Mom said he was too hard on me. Dad said she was too soft. They fought. He left. I almost failed first grade. Only reason I passed was because a lot of kids couldn't spell simple words, and by then I was just writing Beca on all my papers, and I had practiced that enough that I could get it.

"So when Dad left, I was pretty sure it was because I was dumb and he wanted a smart kid. The fact that he had another kid three months after he left confirmed that for me. I mean, I didn't know the math at that point. I didn't know he cheated on my mom. I just figured that since I was a dumb kid, he went and got a new one, a better one.

"My issues didn't stop after Dad left. Mom was always working, so I had no help at all when I got home. When it was clear that I wasn't going to make it through third grade without a serious intervention, Mom had me tested. She was pretty desperate for some help by that point. I think she was trying to get me diagnosed with ADHD or something to explain it away, to force them to let me pass and give me more time to do tests and stuff like that. Test results were pretty conclusive. I don't have ADHD. What I do have," she took a calming breath. "What I do have is dyslexia."

A few gasps, but she didn't look up. She felt a body slide next to hers. Chloe. The redhead started running her fingers through Beca's hair.

"Dad doesn't know," she went on. "At least, I don't think he does. He and Mom weren't talking, and I didn't know where he was. I think he was teaching here by then, and married to Sheila. They had Nathaniel and I'm sure he was a brilliant little Einstein for them to show off." She couldn't quite keep the bitterness from her voice.

Another Bella on her other side. Stacie. She took Beca's hand and started filing her nails because of course she did—she's Stacie.

"Anyway, I got some help. Not a lot. I knew what was going on, so that helped, and some of the teachers were cool and gave me a little more time on tests and stuff. But I still wasn't good at it. Better, but not good. There's a scale, you know? Mild, moderate, severe, profound. I rank at severe. It doesn't exactly go away, you know? But I _can_ read. It just takes me a lot longer."

She stopped, trying to figure out the next part. Part of her wanted to curl against the redhead and pretend this wasn't happening, another part felt so good to say these things that she wanted to continue.

"One teacher suggested music. It was supposed to be an outlet to vent my frustrations. It turned into my everything. I suck at reading, but if I hear a song a few times I can tell you anything you want to know about it. The lyrics, what instruments are used, when the tempo changes, what sounds were electronically altered. I even taught myself the play four instruments by ear. It started there.

"I was so into it that Mom got me the stuff to start mixing." She grinned, still not looking up. "I tried to work music into anything school related. I asked for projects instead of papers whenever I could, and then I found a way to use music to get my point across. Teachers loved it. I mean, I only got out of two major papers, but I rocked those projects. Literally," she smirked. Her friends chuckled in response.

"Dad showed up when I was fifteen. He was pissed that I had all this expensive equipment for my mixing when I still had pretty much straight C's, except in math. I think Mom tried to tell him about me, but he refused to listen. Like with the Tone Hangers," Beca murmured to herself. "I guess that's just him. He yelled at me for being lazy and not taking my schoolwork seriously." She shrugged. "Pretty sure Barden doesn't know either, because every time I ask for an extension or something, the professors just sort of look at me like I'm an idiot."

Silence. Everyone was waiting for her to go on, but she didn't want to talk anymore.

"So what happened today?" Chloe asked softly.

"Fucking Shakespeare," she groaned. "This damn class has me reading this Old English stuff that doesn't make any sense." Her voice raised an octave. "I mean, I can barely understand normal English, and now I have to deal with this?" She spat. "The letters aren't making up real words half the time, and I sure as hell can't guess from context because nothing makes sense in any of these stupid plays."

She jerked her hand away from Stacie and pounded her fist on the table. "None of it makes sense, and I can't figure out the words, and I still don't know what the hell a canker in a hedge is, but I'm going to be a music producer, so I don't need Shakespeare! I don't need any of this!"

Her voice was louder now, her hands fisted in her hair, eyes closed tight. She didn't want to see, didn't want to hear, didn't want to speak, but she barreled on, wanting it over with.

"I went to Dad. He teaches comparative lit, so I figured he could translate some of this for me. Only he told me to stop being lazy and read the assignment, but I've read it three times, and the words aren't real words and sometimes they run together or they space out and I can't tell where one word begins and the other ends, and I can't figure out any of this stuff because it's not normal fucking English and damn it, I am tired of working twice as hard to be half as good as everyone else!"

And suddenly she was in Chloe's arms, sobbing that she was tired, so tired, and she wasn't lazy, she just didn't get it, but she was tired, so tired.

Stacie was wrapped around her next, and Lilly had wriggled up and whispered, "I'm a trained assassin," in her ear. Flo was sitting on the couch behind her, stroking her hair and crooning in Spanish. Cynthia Rose snuggled close to Stacie, but was rubbing Beca's arm soothingly, Denise behind her. Jessica and Ashley were both behind Chloe.

Fat Amy was busy pulling the table away from everyone. Then she calmly walked back to her recliner, grabbed her pillow, and moved back to the Bellas. She strolled casually toward them. "Move over, Skinny Bitches," Fat Amy demanded. They tried, squirming a little to make room, but they were all too close to Beca.

Undeterred, Fat Amy swung her pillow right at Beca, clobbering her. Then again. The girls cried out on Beca's behalf, but Amy didn't stop. Finally, with as fierce a battle cry as she could manage, Beca grabbed her own pillow and charged at the Aussie. She wacked Amy twice before catching Cynthia Rose in the face when she swung back to gain momentum.

"You are going down!" Cynthia Rose snapped, joining the fray.

Then everyone was there, swinging pillows and laughing. Beca jumped onto the couch to gain the high ground, but Chloe cottoned on and jumped up as well. The two swung relentlessly at one another until Chloe lost her balance and toppled into Stacie. Beca crowed her victory until Lilly tackled her, which sent Beca careening into Chloe again. With that four-woman pile up, the remaining Bellas began to laugh hysterically.

Beca looked around. A lamp had been knocked over, feathers were floating around them from Chloe's shredded pillow, and somehow a piece of pizza was stuck to the wall, but everyone was laughing and smiling. "I love you, Awesome Nerds," she said suddenly. She hadn't meant to say anything, but the words slipped out anyway, and she could not regret them.

No one said anything back, but no one needed to. Instead, they moved everything back into place, and Beca set about eating her beloved Taco Bell. They started watching _Bring it On_ , which was apparently the story of the Bellas told through cheerleading. No one questioned Cynthia Rose on her description.

 _-Plans-_

Beca, naturally, fell asleep ten minutes in. She'd finished eating and was curled against Chloe's side, arm slung over her waist and nose buried in Chloe's neck.

"She's drooling," Cynthia Rose said, smirking.

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "I know. But she's had a hard day. I'm not going to make her move. She needs this." Beca snuggled closer.

"She has got to be the gayest straight girl I've ever met," Stacie said, moving to sit beside Chloe. She picked up Beca's hand and started filing her nails again.

"You know," Cynthia Rose laughed, "if a straight girl is gay, people usually call her bisexual."

"Whatever." Stacie shrugged.

They were quiet as the movie played a bit.

"I'll call Aubrey," Chloe began. "She's a compulsive note saver. She took some Shakespeare classes. I'll see if I can get her notes for Beca."

"We took that class last year," Jessica or Ashley said, the other nodding along. "We can go over some of it with her. I mean, she helps us with math all the time. She is crazy good at geometry. Did you know she can do most of the math in her head?"

"This totally explains why she never wrote anything down, though," the other said thoughtfully. "She just kind of talked us through the problems."

"The internet says they think in pictures, not words," Flo offered, looking up from her iPad.

"We're not here to pick her apart," Chloe reminded gently. "We're here to help. Jessica, Ashley, you'll help her with Shakespeare?"

"I can too," Denise offered. "I was in a few of his plays when I was a kid. And I have a few on audiobook. I used to listen to them all the time to help me remember the lines."

"I can research some of it," Flo offered, still working on her iPad. "And a canker in a hedge is a caterpillar in a bush." She looked up at the Bellas. "What? She talked about it earlier. Back home, we were beaten if we did not pay attention to what we were told. And since she is the leader…"

"Beca would never hit anyone," Jessica or Ashley offered.

"Oh, she totally would," Stacie interrupted. She examined Beca's nails. "This one guy wouldn't leave me alone when we were out. Just couldn't understand that I need a man, not a beanpole of a boy. She punched him. She had to jump to reach him, but she still broke his nose."

"Good. You guys can start tomorrow," Chloe said cheerfully, bringing the focus back to where it was meant to be. The Bellas who knew her best, however, knew something was off.

"And what will you be doing?"

Chloe's eyes flashed. "The rest of us are going to visit her father tomorrow. I think it is time he learned to listen."

Lilly grinned and raised her hand. "I will bring my matches," she offered. It was always scary when Lily spoke loud enough to be heard the first time.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Lilly, but I am sure Beca would appreciate the offer," Chloe replied diplomatically.

Smiling, Lilly nodded along.

 _-Family-_

The following day, Beca was swept away to the library by Flo, Denise, Jessica and Ashley.

Chloe managed to find Dr. Mitchell's address in Beca's address book, which held only her father's; Chloe knew full well Beca knew the Bellas' addresses by heart. She, along with Stacie, Cynthia Rose, Lilly and Fat Amy, were on their way. As they walked, they discussed their plan.

Finally reaching the door, they looked to each other one final time, nodding once. Chloe rang the doorbell and waited.

A moment later, the door opened, revealing a blonde woman. She looked over them, her nose wrinkling a little when her eyes wandered over Fat Amy. "Can I help you?" She asked. She squinted at them, as if trying to place them.

"Hi!" Stacie chirped. "We were wondering if we could speak to Dr. Mitchell?"

Blue eyes narrowed at them. "And why do you need to speak with my husband?"

Stacie continued to smile while Chloe looked at Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy. Both were glowering at the woman. The only reason Chloe wasn't was because she was looking at the Bellas.

"We attend Barden University. We just need to talk to him for a few minutes."

It was a good idea to pick Stacie to take the lead until they were inside. Chloe had worried about snapping before she had the chance to deliver her message. They just needed to get in, leave a few hints, and then go.

Stacie must have convinced the woman they were harmless, but soon she led them inside. They stopped in what looked like a library. Dr. Mitchell looked up from a stack of papers.

"Can I help you ladies?" He asked politely. His voice was warm, soothing. So different from how apathetic Beca sounded. Part of her railed against the man who was so kind to them but was so indifferent to Beca the day before.

Chloe took over her role. "Hello Dr. Mitchell, we just wanted to let you know that we'll take care of Beca," she said with forced cheer.

He blinked at them. "Take care of her? Is she sick?" There was genuine worry in his voice, and Chloe thawed a little toward him. She still didn't like him though.

"It's okay," Fat Amy said, waving him away. "We know." She winked.

"Know what? Is she okay?" He stood up.

Cynthia Rose laughed. "Beca's killing it, like usual. We're going to rock Nationals this year. We just wanted to let you we're gonna take care of her."

"Yeah," Fat Amy said, nodding sagely. "She told us everything last night. You know, about her." She winked again.

"Know what about her?" He demanded again. He was clearly on edge. Personally, Chloe enjoyed it, though she knew she shouldn't.

"Ah, pretending not to know, gotcha. We won't bring it up again." Fat Amy gave an exaggerated nod. "Won't say anything, promise. It's a time thing, right?"

"Of course," Cyntia Rose said. "He's a professor. He probably doesn't have the time to help his daughter."

That was a deliciously low blow. Chloe appreciated it, even if it was unplanned.

His eyes flickered between them. "Who are you?"

Chloe laughed lightly, as if the answer was obvious. To her, it was. "We're the Bellas!" She replied through gritted teeth. Chloe lightly touched the familiar yellow bandana around her neck. All of the Bellas present wore them to present a united front. Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Don't worry, we just wanted to let you know we're taking care of everything. No one has to know about, you know." She smiled and gave a little shrug. "It's the least we can do, considering how hard she works for each of us."

"Yeah, Beca is the best roomie. Always willing to float me some cash if I need it, always picking up my side of the room when I'm out with all my boyfriends," Amy added.

"Not to mention how good she is at math," Stacie went on. "Jessica and Ashley both would have failed if Beca wasn't helping them."

Lilly said something next. "What?" Beca's father asked. Perhaps it was a show of solidarity with Beca, but Lily pursed her lips and refused to repeat herself.

"The point is, Dr. Mitchell, you don't have to worry about Beca. We know you're busy grading papers, and we know that a lot of people don't really understand, well, you know, Beca's situation. But we understand, and we just wanted to let you know that her Sisters will take care of her from here on out!"

"Yeah, she's good with us," Stacie went on cheerfully.

"So no worries about Becs. We've got her," Cynthia Rose went on.

"We'll just show ourselves out and let you get back to your work," Fat Amy concluded.

Without saying anything more, the Bellas turned and left, passing the blonde woman and two boys who looked a lot like the man they'd just left gaping at his desk. But that didn't matter. What did matter was getting back to their practice hall and beginning a routine before the rest of the Bellas arrived for practice.

"So what did you say to him?" Stacie asked.

Lilly sighed. "I will choke a bitch," she answered easily.

"Easy, Tiger Lily." Fat Amy grinned.

Cynthia Rose sped up just a little to match pace with Chloe. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," she said, a smile twitching on her lips.

"Don't hurt Beca and you won't have to worry about that," Chloe replied easily as they rushed to rehearsal.

As it turned out, they made it to practice with plenty of time. They ran through their warm-ups and the routine a few times before Beca and the rest arrived. The hold up, apparently, had been a strange call from Beca's dad, asking her to come over for Sunday Brunch.

 _-Listen-_

The meal was strained, though Beca had no idea why. She'd shown up ten minutes early, which was terribly impressive for her since she'd tried to convince the Bellas she was too sick to go. They were strangely adamant that she visit her father.

Sheila kept giving her suspicious looks, and the boys were having an academic discussion on Edgar Allen Poe. How Henry David knew anything about Poe was beyond her, but since she'd only ever studied two poems and one short story by Poe in school, she couldn't really join in. Why couldn't these people talk about music?

Her dad kept looking at her. He had a guilty look on his face. She wondered why. Was it residual guilt for abandoning her? Was it for not helping? Or maybe he wasn't guilty; maybe he was ashamed his eleven-year-old son was smarter than his nearly twenty-year-old daughter.

"How's the schoolwork, Bec?" He asked finally. Everyone seemed to quiet and look at her. Of course they would ignore her until school came up.

She shrugged. "It's schoolwork," she replied. "I was at the library most of yesterday morning studying Shakespeare. It sucked but I got coffee out of it, and some of the Bellas helped me."

"Bella?" Henry David asked.

"It means a beautiful girl in Italian," Nathaniel replied.

"Yeah, but it actually is my a cappella club. The Barden Bellas?"

"What's a cappella?" Henry David asked again. He looked to their brother. Nathaniel cringed, not having the answer.

Beca smiled at her youngest brother—he was, after all, the only one asking questions, even if he wasn't asking her. "It's singing without any instruments. We make our voices sound like instruments though, so it's pretty nerdy."

"That…does not seem very practical," Nathaniel said slowly.

"It's not," Sheila replied.

"You'd be surprised. It teaches you to listen and to work with your team. We do this thing called a riff-off. It's basically where we are given a category and we have to think of a song based on that. One of us starts singing, and the rest of the team has to make the music. We have to listen to each other so we don't have too many people doing the same beat. It would be like hearing a song with only one instrument when you know there are supposed to be more," Beca explained.

Nathaniel looked skeptical, but Henry David looked intrigued. "Why do you do that?"

"It's fun." Beca shrugged. He looked bewildered at the idea of fun. "Besides, the Bellas are my sisters." Her dad stiffened and wouldn't meet her eyes. She shook her head a little. "We _like_ working on our sets. Memorizing lyrics, making beats, the choreography." She grinned.

"How are _your_ studies coming along, Nathaniel?" Sheila asked, focusing on her oldest son. The boy immediately launched into a spiel about his English class. Beca's eyes glazed over and she looked away. Henry David was listening to him as if Nathaniel held the secret of life.

Beca immediately understood. He was surrounded by geniuses and left behind by their superiority. He didn't have Nathaniel's insight. He wasn't as well read as his parents. He just repeated what he heard others say and hoped no one noticed. Maybe their dad hadn't, maybe his mother hadn't, maybe their brother hadn't, but Beca had. She felt the same desperation to be smart, once upon a time. Poor kid had no idea he was trying to live someone else's dream.

Beca set her fork down. She wasn't hungry anymore. She just watched Henry David, knowing he was going to hate himself more and more as he got older because he would never be smart enough. And unlike her, he didn't have music. Beca briefly considered teaching him, but knew that music, true music, could not be taught. It had to be felt. It was one thing to sing a song. It was something else entirely to make it anew. Did he have music in his soul like she did? Maybe he didn't know. The family didn't seem inclined toward music.

"You wanna come to one of my practices?" She interrupted Nathaniel's description of the latest book he was reading. She watched Henry David. His eyes lit up in curiosity. She smiled. "The Bellas won't mind," she went on, leaning forward. "They'll probably like having an audience. Think you can spot us? Check for mistakes?"

Sheila was scowling and shaking her head, but Henry David was focused on Beca. "Could I really?" He wriggled in his seat.

Beca grinned. "Sure. Practice is only two hours today, so I can have you back in time for dinner. We're practicing for the riff-off next week, so it's just singing. But it will definitely show you what a cappella is really about. Lily could even teach you a bit about beatboxing, if you want."

"What's beatboxing?" He asked.

Beca laughed and did what little beatboxing she could (and hoped he didn't realize she was just saying boots and pants as quickly as possible). He loved it though and immediately tried it himself. He did surprisingly well. "Yeah, I'll have Lilly teach you for sure."

Henry David grinned widely and rattled off a series of questions that Beca did her best to answer. Nathaniel continued to talk to Sheila, oblivious. Their dad, though, watched Beca and Henry David closely. Rather, he watched Beca closely.

It was like he'd never seen her before, or had made some grand discovery.

Once the meal was over, Beca took her dishes to the sink. Raised with manners, she started to wash her plate and silverware. It was the sort of thing her mother would expect of her, despite technically being a guest in this house.

"Bec?" Her dad said softly, drawing her attention. She looked up at him. "I think we need to talk."

Beca considered his words for a long moment. The look in his eyes said he might just be willing to listen. "Yeah. I think maybe we do."

-Fin-

A/N: Beca being dyslexic is my headcanon, so no one has to agree. I just wanted this out here in case I ever decided to write more for PP. I am fairly new to the fandom, having seen PP about a week before PP2 came out. As such, I am not fully immersed in Bechloe so this has nothing to do with shipping. I just think Chloe has no boundaries.

Fun fact: In my world, the Mitchell children are named for authors. Beca is Rebeca Margaret Mitchell. Her dad wanted Margaret to be her first name, because he loves _Gone with the Wind_ , but her mother said no. Nathaniel is named for Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Henry David is named for Henry David Thoreau.


End file.
